THE FORGOTTEN WILSON

Chapter 2: Knocking at the Stranger's Door

"Old Master! Mr. Kelvin is here to see you," Butler James announced, bowing respectfully before Old Master Wilson.

"Let him in, and bring us both a cup of coffee," Old Master Wilson replied, his voice carrying the heavy weight of authority.

The butler bowed again and retreated. Not long after, Mr. Kelvin entered the study, the heavy oak door clicking shut behind him.

The two men remained perfectly silent, waiting. Only after the faint rhythm of the butler’s retreating footsteps completely vanished down the corridor did Mr. Kelvin lean forward, dropping his voice to a cautious whisper.

"We are yet to hear anything concrete about her. However... there have been a few whispers. Agnes has reportedly been spotted a few times within the city limits."

"Agnes?" Old Master Wilson’s eyes narrowed, a cold glint flashing beneath his gray brows. "That is quite odd. No one has seen a trace of her since the incident. Tell me, does she by any chance know about the child?"

"I cannot say for certain, sir. The rumor sources are notoriously unreliable," Mr. Kelvin admitted, adjusting his glasses. "But where there is smoke, there is usually fire."

"I will have someone launch a discreet investigation into the matter immediately," the Old Master decreed, his tone brook no argument. He shifted in his leather chair, fixing a sharp gaze on his associate. "Has there been any information regarding my son?"

Mr. Kelvin sighed heavily, shaking his head. "Actually, sir, there has been absolutely nothing. It is as if he turned into a ghost overnight. It appears he is deliberately and meticulously covering his tracks."

Meanwhile downstairs, Butler James stood in the pristine kitchen, carefully preparing the trays of hot coffee. The peaceful silence shattered as Alexander Wilson stormed into the manor.

The young heir strode past, completely ignoring the butler's existence as if he were nothing more than a piece of the furniture.

Butler James noticed immediately that Alexander’s aggressive strides were heading straight for the grand staircase. Sensing the danger, the butler quickly moved to intercept him, blocking the path.

"Young Master, the Old Master is currently hosting a highly important meeting upstairs. He has personally requested absolute privacy."

Alexander halted, his face twisting in immediate disdain. He looked down at the old butler as if he were looking at a piece of literal trash.

"And since when did you get to decide when I can and cannot meet my own grandfather?" Alexander sneered, his voice dripping with arrogance. "Or are you starting to forget your place in this house, old man?"

Butler James knew exactly how stubborn and reckless Alexander could be. Recognizing that polite words wouldn't stop him, the butler deliberately raised his voice, pitching it loudly enough to echo up the stairwell.

"Young Master! Would you also like me to bring you a cup of coffee?!"

Upstairs, the sudden booming offer from the kitchen instantly served its purpose. Hearing the warning code, Old Master Wilson’s expression darkened, and he immediately dismissed Mr. Kelvin through a private exit.

Alexander was no fool. The moment he reached the top landing and saw Mr. Kelvin hurriedly making his way toward the door, he realized something fishy was happening. A secret so massive that even the loyal Butler James would risk offending the young master just to protect it.

Alexander stared intently at Mr. Kelvin’s retreating back, his mind racing.

But the sheer fury consuming him didn't allow him to dwell on it for long. He was too consumed by rage. All he wanted was to march into that study and confront the old man.

"Grandpa! Why the hell can't I access my black cards?!" Alexander shouted barkingly, throwing the doors open and slamming his hands on the desk. "Do you have any idea how humiliating it was for me today? Standing there, unable to pay for the things I bought? I looked like a complete fool!"

Old Master Wilson didn't flinch. He remained perfectly, terrifyingly calm.

"Did Butler James not explicitly tell you that I was in an important meeting?"

"All I saw was one man coming out," Alexander snapped back defiantly, crossing his arms. "And he sure as hell didn’t look important at all."

"Answer the damn question," Old Master Wilson said, his voice dropping to a low, vibrating growl that slowly rose in temperature.

A sudden wave of unease washed over Alexander. The Old Master had never, in his entire life, spoken to him with such chilling venom. His breath caught in his throat. *What went wrong?*

"He... he did tell me," Alexander muttered, his bravado instantly shrinking.

"And despite that, all you felt like doing was ignoring my direct request?"

"Grandpa, it's not like that... let me explain—" Alexander began, his voice trembling as he tried to defend himself.

But the moment the word "Grandpa" left his lips, it was like throwing pure gasoline onto a raging fire.

"Get out!" Old Master Wilson roared, the sound cutting through the room like a gunshot.

"But Grandpa—"

"I said, get out!" the patriarch repeated. His eyes were entirely bloodshot, filled with a terrifying fury that made Alexander’s entire body shiver with raw fear.

Blinking back tears of absolute humiliation and shock, Alexander turned on his heel and stormed out of the room.

Miles away, Sophia sat frozen in her plush office chair. The sun had traveled across the sky, but she hadn't been able to concentrate on a single task all day long.

Her mind was a chaotic loop, trapped in the memories of the previous night. Yet, beneath the shock and the chaos, a strange truth haunted her: she felt absolutely no regret for what had happened between them.

A soft knock dispersed her thoughts as Kate, her personal assistant, stepped into the office.

"We have successfully secured the contract with the Kane Corporation," Kate reported, sliding the documents onto the desk.

"Is there anything else?" Sophia replied smoothly. Her voice was entirely unenthusiastic—a flat reaction that Kate found incredibly bizarre, considering the grueling months of effort Sophia had personally poured into winning that specific project.

Hiding her curiosity, Sophia leaned forward. "What is the latest update regarding the BAG Group?"

"They are showing an incredibly high interest in us," Kate replied, her eyes lighting up. "As of right now, we are officially their top favorites."

"We?" Sophia asked, her eyebrows arching in genuine surprise.

"I was shocked too, Miss Whitmore. It is almost as if they are completely freezing out the Wilsons. At first, I assumed the BAG Group was simply an inferior company that couldn't meet the Wilsons' standards. But our latest intelligence reveals the exact opposite—the Wilsons are actually doing everything in their power to beg for a single meeting with the anonymous CEO of the BAG Group."

Sophia absorbed the information, her mind spinning with the corporate implications. "I see. That will be all for now, Kate."

It was the universal signal for her to leave, but Kate hesitated, looking at her boss with genuine concern. "Miss Whitmore... is there something bothering you? I couldn't help but notice your mood has been a bit off today."

"It's nothing," Sophia offered a tight, reassuring smile. "I'm just feeling a little stressed from the workload."

The moment the office door clicked shut behind Kate, Sophia’s phone buzzed on the desk.

Her heart skipped a beat. She unlocked the screen to find a single, encrypted notification from her private investigator. The message contained a single line:

*House 4, Westend Street.*

It was the exact address she had demanded. A cold determination filled her chest. She needed to look into the eyes of the man she had given her everything to. She needed to know exactly who he was.

Across the city, inside a cramped apartment, Benjamin was packing his final belongings.

He had spent hours pacing the floor, desperately trying to convince himself that it hadn't been his fault. He tried to tell himself that he had been backed into a corner, that her wild threats had left him with no other option.

But it was a total failure. The crushing weight of the guilt was simply too heavy for his conscience to bear.

For a fleeting moment, he had considered tracking her down, meeting her face-to-face, and laying everything out in the open to clear the air. But reality quickly shattered that fantasy. Her elite, untouchable status would never allow a mere bartender to get close to her.

And then there was the memory that haunted him the most. Although he was entirely inexperienced himself, he wasn't stupid. Feeling how impossibly tight she had been against him, he knew without a shadow of a doubt that she had been a pure virgin. And he had taken that from her in a hazy room filled with the scent of whiskey.

Benjamin hoisted his duffel bag over his shoulder, taking one last look at his empty room. It was time to run.

He stepped up to the front door and grasped the handle, pulling it open to step out into his new life.

The moment the door swung wide, the air left Benjamin’s lungs. His face went entirely pale, and his heart violently slammed against his ribs.

Standing right there in the narrow, dimly lit corridor—staring straight into his eyes with an unreadable expression—was none other than Sophia Whitmore.